


Of Vipers and Fires

by CrypticCorvo87



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dalish Elven Culture and Customs, Elvhen Language, F/M, Fire Magic, Haven (Dragon Age), Helpful Cole (Dragon Age), I'm Bad At Summaries, M/M, Pre-Slash, Sassy Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Varric Tethras is a Good Friend
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 07:51:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18912697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrypticCorvo87/pseuds/CrypticCorvo87
Summary: Fenlen's world gets turned upside down when he wakes up surrounded by shemlen, who are willing to kill him if he moves. With his magic crackling through his veins, the elf is ready to at least try to fight his way out. Little does he know he will be helping those who first thought him a murderer.





	Of Vipers and Fires

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> This is my first fan fiction, so let me know what you think. Any constructive criticism would be amazing!  
> Thanks and hope you enjoy!

Pain. That was the first thing he registered. His left hand was letting off pulses of pain, while his head was thumping with a continuous headache. Not moving and keeping his breathing even, he listened to his surroundings. Metal, swords and armour. The elf's hands were shackled, meaning he was a prisoner of some sort. Dark brown wavy curls were falling over his eyes, likely looking messier than normal due to the situation. Fenlen's lip felt tight. Using his tongue, he felt over the right side of his mouth; feeling stitches and tasting dried blood spread over his top lip to the bottom. Now knowing that it's there, he felt the crusted blood crack over what was likely his vallaslin (which was blue-grey, representing Dirthamen). His lip must have been cut and sewn shut. Fabulous. Fenlen's nose gave a slight twitch as he slowly opened his blue eyes, squinting as they took time to adjust. His left eye seemed to have a burning sensation. It also felt bruised; different. Another flare of pain brought his attention to his left arm, it was sparking and pulsing, causing pain to spread up his arm to the left side of his face. Frowning at the new addition to his hand, he lifted his head to take in his surroundings.

Guards, most likely shemlen, were circling him like he was a rabid animal, all with swords raised. The elf rolled his eyes, a small smirk appearing. It was probably not his best idea but it is going to be satisfying to unnerve the shemlen that kidnapped him. Fenlen then changed positions so he was sitting crossed legged, causing the guards to snap their attention to him. Ignoring them and the constant pain, he lowered his head again and closed his eyes for better focus. Bringing out his magic was calmingly familiar. It was a part of him that he could always rely on. The burning in his veins was warm and welcoming; flowing freely. Fenlen heard the guards stiffen when he felt small flames tickle his fingers, just to put them more on edge he started muttering in elven. He wasn't even bothering to hold back the smirk on his lips. "Fenedhis lasa. Bellanaris Din'an Heem. Dirtha-"

"Get the Seeker!" The elf heard the shemlen move closer with their swords raised after the door slammed closed. A guard left in a hurry, meaning he'd succeeding in scaring them. He wasn't some slave to bow down; they will learn this. He didn't bow his head like some scared victim, he would fight or die trying. His magic slithered across the floor in firery burns. Like a snake hunting it's prey, it swirled towards the guard's armoured feet, preparing to erupt the closer it got. Suddenly the door crashed open. The elf's eyes shot up, but his head remained lowered while the flames paused in their advancement. Two shadowed figures hurried through the door.

"Enough of this!" The heavily armoured women yelled. Looking her over, the elven mage took note of her heavy armour. High collar, short hair, aggressive face. Likely a warrior judging by how she seemed to let her anger take over like a shield. Fenlen's eyes flickered to the other woman, she had a hood on. Some sort of spy then? But her armour was light, at least that's what it looked like. This meant she was either a mage or rogue, but seeing her overall appearance he guessed rogue. Through a curtain of walnut hair, Fenlen noticed the exit was left open. Flexing his left hand as it gave off another pulse, reacting to his own magic, seems to make it even more painful. As it pulsed, there was a flicker of green running through the flames surrounding him. He kept his eyes on the two women in front of him. The elf knew he wouldn't be able to escape the shemlen at the moment due to their numbers; he'd have to bide his time. Fenlen huffed in annoyance. The armoured women circled him, avoiding the burning flames, the ones closer to her raising and spitting like vipers.

"Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now." She circled him. Trying to threaten the elf that threatened her guards? Typical shem. They always try using fear. "The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead. Except for you." The elf had no idea what the human was talking about, he understood bits. Like the conclave was where his keeper said the shemlen were gathering. Instead of thinking on it, he kept still and silent; head lowered and flames sparking. Keeping still gave him a slight advantage; they would either not expect an attack or would see it coming from his lack of movement. Mentally shrugging, nothing left to lose. When she got no response, the woman grabbed his left wrist "Explain this." Instead of replying, he focused his magic in his left arm, flames appearing from his fingers just as the the green magic in his hand flared again, powering both types of magic and giving her a sudden burn that sadly didn't get through her armour. She dropped his arm in shock.

When he still refused to talk after almost burning her, the armoured woman grabbed his clothing. This made his magic suddenly lash out and erupt upwards in swirls, flames dancing around the two. "Dirthara-ma" Fenlen warned with a smirk, knowing that she wouldn't understand which would only annoy her more. He got the correct reaction. The woman's face developed even more of a scowl (if that was even possible). It was nothing compared to his father though. Its not like he was considered an innocent child. In his clan Fenlen was known for being a trouble-maker; even more so when he started pranking and verbally shooting down those who especially hated him. Before she could retaliate however, the hooded women put a hand in front of her, guiding her backwards. "We need him, Cassandra." That didn't sound good. Did that mean he was a slave? Fenlen's jaw clenched, they wouldn't survive long, just like the slavers when he was a child. Or perhaps he was wanted as a weapon? Isn't that what shemlen did to mages?

"Do you remember what happened? How this began?" The hooded woman this time. She must be the brains between these two. 

"Ma nuvenin shem. I remember running. Creatures were chasing me, and then...a women I believe?" He raised his head slightly, glaring at them from underneath messy strands. "Should I also call you master?" Fenlen sneered. 

Looks of horror and shock flashed across their faces, before being hidden once again. That's interesting. "We're not- wait, a woman?"

The scowler guided the hood towards the door as they stepped away from him. "Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take him to the rift." Watching the two exchange a silent conversation was odd. His sister, Shiri, and her friends did the same. Was it between those who knew each other well or a non-magic thing? Or maybe it was for people who respected one another? Something he would be unlikely to have then, people weren't bothered about him enough to actually get to know him. Not when his sister was alive, he thought bitterly. A frown took over the elf's face. Maybe he was the problem? He was just unlikable, stupid chi-

Fenlen was brought out of those dark thoughts to an arm grabbing his bicep, pulling him up. Shaking his head slightly, his hair becoming even more dishevelled, he looked into the eyes of the aggressive scowler; the elf scowled at her in return. Left eye aching and pulsing, making his cheek underneath twitch. Right eye glowing a slight orange from the use of his spells; Fenlen likely looked a mess. Thinking about it, the whole left side of his face felt irritated and painful. Odd. Looking back at the heavily armoured woman, he sneered at her, "I suppose you are my master then?" She was dragging him out of the door and leading him outside by the looks it. "What shall I call you shem?" Purposely speaking English seemed like the best option here, if she was his master, he would need better conditions to attempt escape, which meant he had to create slight trust. Fantastic. Normally, he spoke a combination of Elven and English. He forgot that the shem didn't understand, living with elves for years will do that.

She didn't even stop, continuing to drag him outside. Her eyes flicked to him for a moment, "I'm Cassandra. We are not slavers, and not your masters."

"Then why am I here? An elf captured by sheml-." He trailed off when the door dramatically burst open. Fenlen looked up, the sky erupting in pulses, rocks souring towards the landscape beneath it. Everything was green. Flames dancing from the crashed rocks, taking down trees and walls alike. The elf looked around, noticing the small village they were in. Small houses, guards, weapons. This looked more like a fortress with the high walls and large shemlen weapons. Survivors? They seemed desperate, they weren't living in luxury. Looking up at the sparking green vortex once again, he noticed there was a large light coming from its centre. Leading somewhere perhaps? It seemed to spread to the ground from the sky. The green matched the new magic from his hand, it must be magic, nothing else would make rocks float like that. Mesmerised, he flinched when he heard a voice behind him.

"We call it 'The Breach.' Its a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour." Fenlen's eyes flickered to the human who was also looking at the swirling green sky. "It's not the only such rift." She turns to face him as he watches her cautiously, not taking his eyes off the enemy. "Just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the Conclave." 

A frown appeared on his face. "An explosion can do that?" His voice rough with disuse.

"This one did." The human was walking towards him again. Fenlen's back straightened, knowing he was slightly taller than her and refusing to back down because of the race difference. 

"Unless we act, the Breach may grow until it swallows the world."

Before the elf had the chance to reply, the vortex in the sky let out a large sparking thump. Suddenly his hand flared. Fenlen let out a gasp, the pain was unbearable. Burning, aching and sparking. His hand was pulled towards the mess in the sky; the trapped elf let out a slight scream, biting his lip to muffle the sound, then falling to the floor as the constant pain spread through out his body. Pulling his left hand towards his stomach, he curled in on himself, eyes clenched shut. Head almost touching his bent knees as the elf sat with his legs beneath him in the snow; his magic automatically burnt the snow in response to the elf's pain.

Shutting out the pain for a moment, Fenlen realised he had to bide his time. A wave of terror washed over the elf; his feathered companion was missing. Pushing away his panic, dread and anger; he put on a cold mask. Getting away from the shemlen would be the most difficult task, simply due to their numbers and weapons. They were all well equipt. That meant that they were expecting a war, which suggests there was something more going on. Perhaps this 'breach' is more dangerous than he first thought? Why was his hand reacting to it then? Once again, shoving those thoughts to the side, he first had to focus on escaping. He was doing a good job already with scaring the shem. They know he's powerful, pissed and adept in fire magic. Perhaps it wasn't his best idea to show he had magic, but it's too late to worry about that now. So, his first step is to get his staff back or atlea-

Fingers clicking in front of his eyes made the elf's thought process come to a immediate stop.


End file.
